


Kind

by JoiningJoice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff, a little bit of angst, because I'm a horrible person, i really can't write fluff without adding a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoiningJoice/pseuds/JoiningJoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean just wants to see Marco smile.<br/>It's their first Christmas together, and he has the perfect gift for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Translating is hard ;_;  
> Feel free to tell me if I've made some mistakes!  
> I wrote and posted this on Christmas but I guess you wouldn't mind if I post it now...we all need fluff. And freckles. And horses.

 

_Kind_

  


  


The graves of the soldiers were covered in fresh snow. Jean walked in that whiteness, paying attention not to fall, rubbing his gloves to keep his hands warm.

He stood in front of a tomb, not different from the others. He sat in front of it, indifferent about the snow covering his legs and slipping under his cape.

  


'Hey, Marco.' 

  


He stared at his friend's name, labeled in the stone, the only proof of the existence and the identity of who was buried in that grave. For most of the people, Marco would have been just an unknown soldier, a name to add to the list, another life ended too soon.

Not for Jean.

  


He put a hand in his pocket and took something from it. He looked at the thing in his gloved hand absently, caressing the seams, then layed it near the grave.

He breathed the silent and cold air, releasing it with in a warm, little cloud. A little, sad smile stretched his lips

'Merry Christmas.'

  


* * *

  


It had snowed more than Marco had ever seen in his whole life, in the last hours. He touched the window of the barracks, curious, and immediately walked back, the hand frosted, chattering for the cold.

Behind him, Jean bursted out laughing.

  


'It wasn't this cold in Jinae, wasn't it?'

  


Marco shook his head.

  


'I've already seen the snow, but...not like this.' he looked at his comrade. Jean was lying on his bed. 'You think we're gonna have to train even with this weather?'

'They shouldn't even try. I don't even feel like getting up from this bed.' answered Jean, yawning.

  


Marco raised his eyes, vaguely disappointed. He has known Jean since months, and he already knew how indolent and lazy he could be. He reached him on his bed and sitted near him, withdrawing his knees towards his chest.

'Too bad you feel like this. I wanted to ask everyone for a snowballs battle...'

'God, Marco, you're thirteen but sometimes you just sound like a little child!'

Marco rubbed his nose, pushing him teasingly. Jean pushed back, laughing, then stopped and looked at the ceiling, suddendly serious.

'Marco...did your parents used to give each other gifts, at this time of the year? My family never did, but I know it's kind of an habit in Jinae and in the southern zones of the walls...'

Marco nodded, smiling. 'Some of us used to. It's an usance that comes from an ancient festivity called Christmas, even older than the Walls themselves. Why are you asking?'

Jean stared at him for a while, little amber eyes lost in his own thoughts. He stood up on his elbows and sighed.

  


'It doesn't make any sense to wait, then. It's better if I take advantage of the fact there's no one around to bother me.

Marco glanced at him, confused, while he turned on his back and searched for something under his mattress, a serious and stealthy look on his face. Jean turned to him again and silently asked him to get closer.

Their noses were almost touching, Marco could feel Jean's breathe on his face. With a wide, weird and heartfelt smile, Jean handed him what he took from his mattress. 'Merry...Christmas, Marco!'

Marco stared at what Jean gave him. At first he just freezed, eyes fixed on that little thing in his hands. Then he started gasping, unable to talk, cheeks getting red. Before he could realize, he was crying, fingers tight and caressing Jean's gift.

In his hands, still cold from when he touched the frozen windows, there was a Military Police cloth emblem, whose origin was probably intended to be seawed on someone's uniform. Marco looked up to Jean, eyes filled with warm tears.

  


'H-how did you do that?'

  


Jean's smile became a grin. 'The sewing duties weren't totally a waste of time, then. Last week, when it was my turn, they brought us some of the Miliary Police uniforms to sew. You're always blabbering about how much you want to be in the Police so i thought that maybe...maybe...' Jean rolled his eyes to the sky, swallowing. '...maybe it would have been something kind to do...'

'Kind? This...this...' Marco looked again to the emblem. 'Jean, this is the most beautiful thing anybody ever did for me.'

  


  


He wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his sweater and leaned towards Jean, placing his lips on Jean's cheek and retreating back immediately. Jean stared at him, quickly blushing.

'What...was that?'

It was Marco's turn to show his grin, even if it wasn't something he was used to do. 'It's the tradition, Jean. Never heard about that?'

Jean scowled at him. '...no.'

Marco smiled. 'If I can't repay the gift you gave me, a kiss will be accepted and appreciated as a thanksgiving.'

Jean glanced at him, skeptical, than laughed, ignoring the looks from the other guys in the barrakcs. He pushed Marco, who falled into the bed and started laughing himself. Jean falled against him, their laughters still echoing in the air. They both stared at the emblem, whose Marco had raised in the air. 

The green unicorn almost shined, illuminated by the candles and the lanterns of the dormitory.

  


'One day.' Marco whispered. 'One day this will be the emblem on our heart, on our arms, on our backs.'

Jean stared at him. Marco's eyes were shining, looking at the piece of cloth; he stared at his face, sprinkled with freckles and blushing for the emotion, and at his mouth, his dry lips breathing warm air. He thought about those lips, the feeling Marco left on his cheek.

  


'Marco.'

'Huh?'

'...if I brought you another gift, next year, would you...kiss me again?'

  


Marco's eyes widened with surprise. He smiled.

  


'Jean,' he whispered, and Jean's chest bumped. 'You don't have to wait Christmas to ask me to kiss you...'

  


* * *

  


'Jean' murmued a gentle voice. 'The Corporal said we have to go.'

Jean looked at Armin, who had reached him. He nodded and Armin walked away silently. Jean turned back to the grave; he stood up, performing the salute he learned years ago and then turning away, swallowing the tears.

On Marco's grave was resting the emblem of the Survey Corps.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaah I'm sorry please don't hit me!  
> [I have a Tumblr!](http://what-a-joice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
